Mom
by SironaFlett .o.x.o
Summary: The Prequel to "DAD". Cuddy is diagnosed with a terminal disease. She asks one thing of House. To raise her daughter as his own. Can he do it? Can he cope with the pressures of fatherhood whilst trying to deal with Cuddy's death? Please R
1. Dreams

**Name: "MOM"**

**Plot: A prequel to "DAD". It follows Lisa Cuddy as she finally begins to admit her feelings for House but only as she dies from a serious aliment. She asks House for one final request. Is he up to the task? Can he stop himself from falling back into old habits? And how does he cope when having another person dependent on him?**

**I have set this during the 6****th**** season, though I have not seen it, I have a general idea of what happens. So, if I do make a mistake, anywhere at all, please alert me and I can change it**

**Author: SironaFlett .o.x.o**

**This fanfiction can be read on its own, but it is a spin off Prequel from my other fanfiction "DAD".**

**I do not own House M.D it's characters and so on. That ownership lies with David Shore.**

_House limped into the building and signed a few forms. He picked up a pink piece of paper and stared at the words. He sniffed and scrunched it up. _

"_Good morning Dr House," Came a voice._

_House looked up and saw Cuddy marching up to the nurse's desk. She was wearing a tweed jacket that fell just above her knees. Her pinstripe skirt complimented her shins nicely. Her leather clad gloves were curled around a cup of coffee and a leather briefcase. She smiled up at House._

"_Good morning, Cuddy," House said. He began to limp off._

"_Is that it?" Cuddy asked, following him to the elevator. He stopped and turned looking at her politely. "No remarks about what I'm wearing or glib remarks about Ra-"_

"_How is the little bastard?" House asked pleasantly. _

_Cuddy smiled suddenly reassured. "You've used that one on me before. Rachel is developing a rash-"_

"_Who said I was talking about Rachel?" House asked. "I was talking about Lucas,"_

"_Lucas is not a bastard,"_

"_Nope," House replied. "But he is little. In every sense of the word. Sha-zing!"_

"_Are you on vicodin again?" _

"_Is that an accusation?"_

"_I'm pretty sure it was a question," Cuddy retorted. "You're wisecracking is more speedy today than it usually is."_

"_Well you see, that is because I __**don't **__have the vicodin clouding up my thoughts," House said, pushing the elevator button. The doors slid open. _

"_Are you in pain?" Cuddy asked._

"_I'm always in pain," House replied. "There is an enormous assed one following me right now."_

"_Oh thanks,"_

_House smiled at her. "Just being the kind old doctor that you expect me to be," He said. He watched as some other doctors joined him in the elevator. _

"_House!"_

"_Cuddy!" House shouted, mocking her._

"_No, House…" House looked at her as she clung to the wall. Her face was suddenly pale. She was struggling for breath. "Something's wrong,"_

_The elevator doors began to close. House held out his hand to stop it. Then he threw away his cane in enough time to catch Cuddy as she fell to the ground, unconscious. _

"_Cuddy?" He shouted, checking her pulse. "Cuddy!" Her heartbeat barely struggled to get past 40bpm. "I need a crash cart!" He bellowed as Doctors and nurses surrounded them. _

….

House woke with a start. There was a sharp shooting pain through his right leg. He shoved back the covers and slowly lifted himself out from the bed. He rubbed it slowly, wishing for a vicodin. He couldn't though… He couldn't go down that route again. If he did… Then his father was right.

He frowned for a moment, and then remembered his dream.

House was not one to believe prophetic dreams. In fact he quite occasionally mocked them beyond normal. But this dream was so livid. He knew that his subconscious was trying to tell him something. But he wasn't sure what yet. Slowly he got up and began to get ready for work.

….

Cuddy woke up feeling like crap. Rachel was crying in the next room. She looked to her side. Lucas wasn't next to her. She then remembered that he was involved with an all night case. He had told her not to expect him home for a while. She rolled onto her side and rubbed her head. She couldn't call in a sick day. She had an organ transplant meeting, two inventories meetings with the budget committee. Then a meeting with Wilson to discuss new equipment for the oncology department.

Rachel wailed even louder. She was hungry. Cuddy could tell. Her adopted daughter was quite a quiet baby, she never usually put up a fuss unless something was really bothering her.

Slowly Cuddy got up and got ready for work. As she sat up, she felt dizzy. She hated the feeling but nevertheless she continued.

…

"So you think that your dream was trying to tell you something?" Wilson asked sceptically.

House looked over at his friend. "Perhaps," He held out a paperback book. It was battered worse than most fish and its binding was completely ruined. Wilson took it and read the title.

"Sigmund Freud; Theory of Dreams?" Wilson asked incredulously, he looked up at House. "Are you serious?" He asked.

"Don't mock," House said, pulling on his blazer over his crumpled blue shirt.

"I'm not mocking," Wilson replied. "I just never anticipated you reading a psychology text before."

"I've been reading up on books that Nolan suggested." House took the book from his friend and flicked open a page. "'Freud theorized that one's dreams were a link into thoughts and ideas that the person's subconscious picked up. Furthermore, these dreams picked up the insignificant details that many miss due to their day-to-day activities,'" He paused and looked at the bewildered oncologist. "Much like the way I tried to induce hallucinations to determine what caused the bus crash."

Wilson flinched at the memory, but did not reply. "So you think that there is something wrong with Cuddy? Depression perhaps?"

"Nah, if it was depression she would have stopped the diet and break open a tub of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough fudge a long time ago." House said.

"Alright, that's a lame one," Wilson said.

House nodded. "I know," He said. "I don't like the thought of something being wrong with Cuddy… I mean who's gonna sign my pay checks?"

"Well yes, that is the major concern. It has nothing to do with the fact that you've been pining after her for nearly 20 years, and now she finally has someone else in her life and you're jealous,"

House frowned. "You read way too much into things." He tossed the book onto the coffee table and grabbed his rucksack. He pulled it over one shoulder and grabbed his cane.

"I'm not reading into things," Wilson said, following House out the apartment. "I'm using your theory here-"

"Freud's," House interrupted.

"Whatever," Wilson shrugged; he opened the door to his car and letting House in. "You think that there is something wrong with Cuddy. In your twisted mind, that could be anything from dating Lucas to liking low-fat yoghurt!" He got into the drivers seat and looked at his friend. "I'm right aren't I?" He asked.

"Yeah, yeah," House said. "Aren't you just the best Oprah impersonator ever?"

Wilson frowned, he started the car. "What does Oprah have to do with anything?" He asked driving away.

"Sorry," House said. "When you wisecrack all day, some are just bound to run out on ya,"

…

Rachel had a tiny cough. It was nothing serious, but Cuddy playing mom was worried as hell. She didn't leave the apartment until she was positive that her daughter was alright. She kissed her forehead and thanked the nanny. She stopped at the doorway. She felt dizzy again. Breathing, slowly, she left.

She got into her car and turned on the engine. She felt like crap. Nevertheless, she pressed on the gas and released the clutch. The car began to roll smoothly down the hill.

As she drove, she began increasingly aware that something was wrong. She couldn't concentrate. She wanted to pull over. But there wasn't a lay-by free.

She… Couldn't… Think…

Everything went black.

Her eyes shot open and she spun the steering wheel of the car, so she wouldn't crash. There was a buzz of sirens. Cuddy rolled down the window, her identification between her fingers.

"I'm Dr Lisa Cuddy," She murmured incoherently. "Call an ambulance… Get House! Princeton Plainsbro…"

She drifted off into unconsciousness again.


	2. Differential

House was lounging in the E.R watching Dr Riley run around trying to fix everything during her shift. He sipped the soda, his feet resting on the station desk. Riley looked at him folding her arms. Her expression was less than amused.

"Don't you have to do work?" She asked.

"Yes," House nodded. "I just don't want to do it." Riley raised an eyebrow. "Listen, my psychiatrist told me to only do the cases when I feel like I can handle them."

"So why are you not in your office watching your soaps?" Riley asked. "Is Foreman looking for you?"

"Oh, you know me too well," House shrugged.

Paramedics burst through the doors. Riley pulled on some latex gloves and rushed over to the gurney.

"Lisa Cuddy 44-year-old. Passed-out on the motorway," The paramedic informed them. House got up when he heard Cuddy's name. "Before passing out she requested to be taken to this hospital. BP's good, pulse normal, but she seems to be unable to regain consciousness."

"Push 2cc IV fluids," Riley said. "Get an MRI, EKG, echocardiograms, CT scan and draw blood cultures."

House stood over her bed. She looked so helpless. Her hair was strewn across the pillow. Riley touched his arm. He looked at it for a moment.

"House, you're gonna have move," She said.

House blinked, looking back at Cuddy. "Can I get her charts?" He asked.

….

House slammed his cane down on the desk. He turned to look at Thirteen, Taub, Foreman and Chase. Wilson stood beside him. House scribbled on the white board, his face set.

"Are you sure that we are the best people to treat Cuddy?" Thirteen asked, staring at the board.

House put the pen down. He turned to look at her.

"What she means, it's just…" Taub sighed. "We know her. Our personal influence could cloud our judgement."

House didn't reply. "Right," He said, pointing to the symptom ignoring Taub's comment. "Differential,"

"For passing out?" Foreman asked. "Um, dehydration? Tiredness? Those ring a bell?"

House shook his head. "No," He said. "It isn't them,"

"How can you be sure?" Chase asked. "It sure sounds like exhaustion," He shrugged. "If I had a kid and had to juggle such a huge job and House, I think I'd be tired."

"She's been juggling them for almost a year," House muttered. "No way would she start getting tired now."

"How can you be sure?" Thirteen insisted. "You immediately presume its something horrible. Why won't you wait until the test results come through?"

"Because," Wilson said, unfolding his arms. "House had a dream where Cuddy was ill, and seriously."

"I thought you didn't believe in that sort of stuff," Taub frowned. "You called it mumbo-jumbo,"

"I don't… Since… I'm more open to things now," House said. "I think my subconscious was trying to tell me that she was ill before she…" His sentence failed to finish.

"Are you using Freud's theory here?" Chase asked. "Because there is an important word to consider. It is just a theory,"

"But it makes sense," House said. "It fits; it's the same reasoning I had when…" He looked at Wilson. "When Amber died."

The team fell quiet, remembering what House went through to save Wilson's girlfriend. They looked up sadly at the older Doctors, silent and thoughtful. House shook away the memory. He pointed at the board again.

"What could it be?" He asked.

"Infection? Perhaps a fungus?" Taub suggested. "What about something environmental or genetic?"

Riley entered the office. Her face grim. She handed House the results of the tests. "She has cell fragments in her blood." She said. House opened the file and stared at the words. "And she can't swallow properly," Riley said. "I suggest you move fast." She left. House turned to Thirteen.

"Go take a medical history," House said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Foreman, Chase, check her home for toxins or whatever might explain these symptoms."

Chase, Foreman and Thirteen nodded. Chase and Foreman left hurriedly and Thirteen lingered a little longer to get her jacket. "House," She said. "She's a working mom. Don't you think that she would more likely be exposed to something new in her office rather than at home?"

House bit his lip. He turned to Wilson. "We'll check it out." Thirteen nodded, picking up her leather jacket. "Oh and check if anyone else is ill at the home," House ordered. He picked up his cane and looked at his friend as his employee left.

"You know the prognosis," Wilson said. "We both do,"

"Not without confirmation." House said. "Scan her neck, check her eyes and do a biopsy,"

Wilson nodded. "That's what I figured." He sighed and picked up his lab coat. "I'll order the tests."

….

House sat beside the bed. He was watching her sleep. Well, she thought that he didn't know that she was awake. House frowned. That made no sense. Cuddy smiled softly and turned her head.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

House smiled at her. "Nothing,"

"No, I mean the tests," Cuddy replied. "Why are you doing them?"

"Because," House said, sighing. "You are the boss of me and if you die, I'll have to manipulate someone new."

Cuddy smiled."It's nothing to do with…"

"No," House confirmed.

Cuddy's smile wavered. "What do you think it is?" She asked.

"Nothing good," House replied.

"How long have I been here?" She asked.

"Loss of time?" House asked. "That could be a new symptom,"

"House, it's because I'm in a hospital and the blinds have been shut ever since I got here," Cuddy replied.

House sighed and tapped his cane. "A day," He replied.

Cuddy sat up. "Where's Rachel?"

"It's alright," House said. "Lucas is with her. He's taking her in as we speak. We'll take care of her while we treat you,"

Cuddy nodded. "Wilson was in here, getting a lung biopsy," She said. "And it was Wilson…" She stared at House. "Do you think I have cancer?" She asked.

House didn't reply. He clicked his tiny penlight and flashed it into her eyes. Her pretty brown eyes were rimmed red. House sighed. "Damn,"

Cuddy looked up at him fearfully. "What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing good," he replied.

"Hey, look who's here to see mommy,"

House and Cuddy looked around to see Lucas holding Rachel in his arms. Cuddy Smiled. "Rachel," She held out her wire covered arms and Lucas gently placed the napping baby on Cuddy's lap. She pressed her hand against Rachel's tiny face, tickling her ear.

House cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm gonna go… Check results," He realized that no one was listening. He sighed and left.

"So what do they think it is?" Lucas asked.

Cuddy looked up. "Nothing that bad," She lied. "I should be outta here really soon."

Lucas smiled and kissed her.

….

House stood watching, peering through the blinds. Wilson joined him.

"I think you should talk to her," The oncologist said.

"You have the results?" House asked.

Wilson nodded. "Their not good," He handed the file to House. He read it slowly. "Our suspicions have been confirmed." Wilson said. "She has stage four small cell lung cancer."

House looked back at the happy smiling family.

"She's gonna die," He said.

"Yeah," Wilson agreed. "6 months at the most,"

**Please, please Review no matter how bad!**


	3. Diagnosis

House slid the door open. Cuddy looked up at him. She looked weak and weary. "Hey," She said. House nodded, and sat down beside her bed. Cuddy sat Rachel up in her lap.

"Where's Lucas?" House asked.

"Getting coffee," Cuddy replied. "Now, enough with the pleasantries, what's the prognosis?" She saw his face fall. "House, what is it?"

"Lisa…" House sighed, Cuddy grew worried. House never called her by her first name. "You have stage four small cell lung cancer. It's spread to your heart and liver."

Cuddy blinked. "I'm dying? Are you sure?" House nodded. She looked at Rachel. Her eyes began to drip beady tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. "How long?"

"With chemo, you have at least six months, without it, you have less than four." House replied.

"Chemotherapy?" Cuddy asked.

"I can schedule you in for surgery to remove the tumour for tomorrow morning," House said.

"I don't want to die," Cuddy whimpered, tears beginning to spill from her eyes again. "I wanna… I can't… Rachel… Lucas… I can't…"

House put his hand on Cuddy's shoulder. "I know, this is gonna be hard. But who knows what advances they'll make in several months."

"It's not enough time…" Cuddy whispered.

House looked at her. "I don't really want to give you the chemotherapy,"

Cuddy looked at him. "Are you trying to kill me? Get rid of me as soon as you can? What the hell is wrong with you?" She shrieked, tears staining her face. "Is it that hard for you to let me live a happy last six months?"

"No… Nothing like that," House replied. "It's just. It's worth it if it would give you a few more years, but… You don't want to spend your last few months in pain, throwing up. Not when you could be spending it with Rachel and Lucas."

Cuddy looked at her daughter. "I know chemo hurts," She said. "I just… It…"

"Lisa," House said. Cuddy looked up. "Please listen to me. I've checked this almost 4 times. There was no mistake in the labs, there was no mistake in the administration. I wish I could make this all better… I wish…" He sighed. "I'm sorry,"

Cuddy looked up at him. "Sorry? You son of a bitch."

"Lisa, I'm trying-"

"Get out," She whispered.

"Lisa, I'm trying to help," House said.

"Get out!" She shouted. "Get out, get out, get out!"

House nodded, and obediently left. Cuddy began to sob uncontrollably. She curled up into a tight ball, almost protecting Rachel. Her body shuddered as tears fell onto the hard hospital bed. Rachel looked up, her limbs flailing slightly. Cuddy kissed the top of her daughters head.

"Mommy loves you," She whispered.

….

Lucas found House outside Cuddy's room. He sat on one of the many seats, his forehead pressed against the handle of his cane. He sat beside the doctor.

"I don't like you," Lucas admitted. "But I respect you. Lisa won't tell me what's going on,"

House didn't reply. So Lucas pressed on. "Please House, what's wrong with her?"

"If she doesn't want to tell-"

"Oh shut up," Lucas replied. "Will you just tell me?"

House tapped his cane and leaned back on his chair. "She has stage four small cell lung cancer. There is very little we can do for her."

"She can get chemotherapy, right?"

"Yes, she can." House said. "But that would only give her two months more at the most,"

"Two months is something," Lucas argued.

"She will be in pain constantly," House replied. "She will spend hours in constant agony. Chemotherapy is basically poison. It will weaken her to an inch of her life and every moment of it, she will be wishing for death." He looked over at the private detective. "Wouldn't you want your last days to be happy and pain free?" He asked.

"She's gotta live though," Lucas said. "Y'know, if she like lives for a few more months, then… What if there are breakthroughs?"

"Wouldn't be enough time," House replied. "Any drug or treatment that comes into being has to be tested by the FDA. It can take up to as long as a year to be put on the market."

"But you're a doctor, you can get these experimental treatments,"

House stood up. "Do you think I want her to die? Do you think that I am so selfish to want her dead because she chose you over me? I love Lisa, I have for nearly my entire life. But I will not have her suffer on my prescription just because it might give her a few more weeks. I won't have her suffer in pain when she could be spending her last few moments with those she loves most,"

Lucas blinked. "You really love her?"

"Enough to know that chemotherapy will prolong her life for a short while and with an enormous cost." House replied. "Her survival rate is worse than most patients I have ever dealt with. It is terminal. There is nothing I can do."

Lucas's lips curled in. He was thinking. He stood up, rubbing his arm. "I… I have to…" He shook his head.

"I know," House replied. "Go talk to her,"

"I can't… I…" Lucas sighed. "I love her too much. To tell her not to take the chemotherapy…? I can't do that… I mean…" He looked up at House. "I can't do that to her,"

House bit his lip. He began to pace, wincing as he did so. He sighed and nodded. "I understand," He said.

Lucas looked up at him, frowning. "You understand? Did you take something this morning? You don't understand matters of the heart. You don't understand people and you never will,"

"I'm trying aren't I?" House argued.

"Thirty years too late," Lucas replied. "Tell someone who actually gives a fuck."

House was hit hard by this. "I'm trying to save her," He said. "I don't want to see her in pain," He turned and limped off, leaving Lucas by himself. He sat for a moment his head in his hands. He pulled his checked shirt further over his white t-shirt and wiped his nose. He stood up, paced for a moment before sliding open the door to Cuddy's room.

She was sleeping, naturally. Rachel was in a bed of her own wriggling noiselessly, but gurgling every so often. It was adorable. Lucas picked her up and sat her on his lap. "Hey," He whispered. "It's your daddy," Rachel put her knuckles near her mouth, staring up at him. She blinked her tiny green eyes and he smiled. He bit his lip.

"Alright, here's the skinny," He said. "Your mom is dying. With chemotherapy she may have six months left but she will be incredibly week and unable to spend her last moments with us. If she doesn't have the chemotherapy, she would have less time, but she wouldn't be in constant pain. And I don't know what to do. Do I watch her die slowly and painfully whilst I have enjoyed a few more months of her company? Or can I let her go as nature intended and she could make her last few months really amazing? I don't want her to spend her last precious days in a hospital getting treatment that doesn't work. I don't want to see her in pain. I love her too much,"

He looked over at Cuddy. Rachel tried following his gaze, but she couldn't see. Lucas smiled softly straightening her hat. "This is possibly the biggest decision that your mother will ever have to make. She can either have faith in House to make a last minute diagnosis, or accept her death. Even then, what can she choose? More time, or less pain?" He chuckled absentmindedly. "I wouldn't mind it if it was more time and no pain." He bounced Rachel on his lap. "What would you choose?"

He stared at her for a few minutes. "What am I talking about? How can you answer me? You're an infant! Nothing more."

Cuddy rolled over, he looked up fearing that she was awake. She stirred no more. He turned his attentions back to Rachel.

"Y'know, I used to have a huge fear of death," he said. "I never wanted to die unless I had a wife and a child and a pension plan that could support them. I never wanted to die unless I knew what was on the other side. I never wanted to die unless I had no other choice. But Lisa… She has nothing in this…"

"Lucas,"

He looked up. Cuddy was sitting upright on her bed, tears bleeding from the corner of her eyes. "Can you get House for me?" She asked.

He nodded kissed her forehead and left the room.

**Yay! People like it! Please Please PLEASE review! Makes me feel special (not sure if thats the right spelling)**


	4. Choice

Lucas showed House into the room before grabbing his coat and leaving. He made quickly a very public display of his affections for Cuddy before he did leave. House gave her an expression.

"Don't," She said, pulling her blankets over her stomach. "I'm not in the mood to humour you,"

House nodded. "Trust me, if I was in the same boots, I wouldn't bother either." He rubbed his eyebrows. "Have you come to a decision?"

"Mm… Do I wanna die in six months or less?" She asked mockingly. "Well, I have to go with column C. No House, I do not want to make a decision on this," He looked at her curiously, tapping his cane. She sighed. "Listen," She said in a softer tone. "I'm sorry. It's just… Well… Hearing a cancer diagnosis is really not the best way to enter a new business week."

House gave a crooked smile. "Have the chemo," He said finally.

"Another desperate attempt to manipulate me?" She asked. "Don't," She sighed. "You've… I mean you've… Almost… I mean…"

"Died?" House asked.

Cuddy nodded, looking up at him thoughtfully. "What's it like?" She asked. House paced a little, playing with his bottom lip. He closed his eyes for a minute, not knowing what to say. "House?" Cuddy asked.

He looked back at her. "I can't really explain it to you." He replied. "It's not something I remember well,"

"Alright then," Cuddy asked, looking at his leg. "Is there any pain?" He blinked and sat down.

After a long minute, he replied. "No," He said. "Dying is not painful,"

Cuddy looked at her feet. House opened his mouth to speak again. She stopped him. "I know about you opinions about the afterlife. I don't need to hear your atheist views,"

House tapped his cane, leaning back on the chair. "Okay, so… Where do you want to go from here?"

"Personally I'd like a sandwich," Cuddy replied. "But hey ho," She sighed. "I know there's pain in chemo, but honestly it can't be as bad as what it sounds,"

House looked at her. "You're right; it's not as painful as people think. I mean… It's not as painful as every bone in your body shattering or being skinned or-"

"Suffering from chronic pain?" Cuddy suggested.

He blinked. "I knew we'd come to this," He said.

"Well I know chemo isn't as bad as what you go through. I just…" She sighed. "In the near ten years that you have been a cripple, you've never really talked about it,"

"You really wanna talk about me?" House asked.

Cuddy shook her head. "Not particularly, but it beats talking about my predicament."

House licked his teeth and nodded. "Alright then,"

"You're complying with my wishes? That's new,"

"We're more alike than we care to admit," House replied. "For example, my, or our, rather magnificent perfect ass,"

Cuddy grinned. "Thanks,"

"No problem,"

"So seriously," Cuddy said. "If the pain of chemo is not as bad as what you go through on a daily basis, I can cope," House avoided her gaze. "House, what's wrong?"

"Do you wanna know the reason I took the vicodin for so long?" House asked. "It's because I didn't cope. I still don't cope. I have to stop myself from screaming at the top of my lungs every time I move. I don't want to see you in pain. I don't want to see you suffer, because I'll know it was my fault. My fault for prescribing you the drugs, my fault for even suggesting it to you… I can't live like that. And I know it's selfish, and I know I'm being a right bastard. But I can't do it, Lisa. I can't live knowing that I caused you pain in your last months."

Cuddy blinked. She smiled gently. House noticed that her lips were cracked. "Okay," She whispered.

"Okay, what?" House asked.

"I don't want the chemo." She said. "We all know it won't work. I've seen my charts. There is absolutely no point to me even trying it. It'll cause me pain and the only upside is 6 more weeks. So, you're right House. You're completely right as per bloody usual. I don't want the chemotherapy."

House smiled softly at her. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but met her lips instead. Cuddy pulled away, embarrassed. She looked up at House, tears failing down her cheeks. She wiped them away.

"Sorry," She whispered. "I'm usually not this weepy when someone tries to kiss me,"

House pressed his finger against her lips to get her to stop. He kissed her again, cupping his hand around the base of her skull, feeling her coarse unwashed hair between his fingers. He didn't give a shit though. She pulled him closer by his shirt. They pulled apart, staring at each other. House averted her gaze.

"I…" He said, quietly. "I have to go."

He gave her a last glance and then limped away.

"No," Cuddy said. "Don't…" The door slammed shut. "Go…"

…

"You kissed her?"

"How the hell did you find out?" House snapped.

Wilson put a bag of potato chips on the tray as House limped forward to get a soda. He picked the tray up and moved towards the cashier. "You actually kissed her?"

"Yes," House said. "Can I go punish myself now? Or do I let you do it?"

"You do know, she has a boyfriend," Wilson said.

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that."

"And that she's dying?"

"Yes, that too," House replied.

"And she has a daughter,"

"Now you're just stating the obvious," House said.

"I'm just making sure you didn't slip something and forget," Wilson said. House rolled his eyes and handed over a twenty dollar bill.

"It was just a kiss," He said.

"Just a kiss?" Wilson asked incredulously. "It's never 'Just a Kiss' with you!" He sighed and sat at a table. "Do you think you'll get together?" He asked.

House sat opposite his friend. "Hook up with a dying person? Let's leave that to you okay?" He opened the bag of chips and took a few before handing it to Wilson. "She's refused the chemotherapy,"

Wilson frowned. "You look really pissed off. What's wrong? I thought you wanted her not to have it,"

House nodded. "I do. I mean… I don't… I mean…"

"You're having second doubts?" Wilson asked.

House nodded slightly. "Sorta,"

"That's the problem with doctors trying to play god." Wilson said.

"Oh don't get into semantics," House said, pissed off. "We're not in seminary school."

"No, but you know I'm right. I mean it's all well when we save people. But controlling how they die, when they die, if they die. It's where the human race is lacking. We don't know when to stop. Or rather, doctors don't."

House didn't reply. He took a few more potato chips. "So in all seriousness. How'd you figure it out?"

Wilson gave him a small smile, raising his somewhat demented eyebrows. "You weren't limping as much," He said. "It looked like your cane wasn't really necessary,"

House looked at the cane that rested hooked on the table. He sighed.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Nolan you're high on endorphins," Wilson grinned.

House gave a little smile. "It hasn't really hit home," He said.

"What hasn't? That you're a gigantic pain in the ass?" Wilson asked.

"No," House said. "She really is gonna die and I can't do anything,"

Wilson nodded. "Yeah, well. C'est la vie,"

House hated Wilson using this term when talking about Cuddy. But he figured that after Amber's death, his friend had hardened somewhat. Wilson grew uncomfortable. He shifted slightly in his seat. "I don't like Cuddy's death anymore than you do, but… I've been around death more times than you realize. I can't draw a line between who I care about, and who I feel sorry for. I'm not trying to justify my actions. But this is way I work. And it differs from you… Well, it never did, but now it does. You're trying to connect with the world. I'm trying to leave it behind. That's why I asked you to oversee her case,"

House watched his friend reach over for his coffee. Wilson sighed. "So… When did you stop listening?"

"I didn't," House replied.

"So… You couldn't come up with a witty retort,"

"I came up with several. But now, self control is one of the things I must exercise in order to bring about perfect mental health." House replied.

"Wow." Wilson sighed. "This therapy thing… I don't know if I like it anymore,"

House smirked a little. "I don't think I like it any more than you do." He said. "Because it hurts,"

Wilson nodded. "Yeah, it always does."

**As always I love your reviews! **


	5. Arrogance

rfeLucas curled up on the bed beside Lisa. His tears were stale and his breathing laboured as he struggled to control his emotions. Lisa watched him carefully, analysing his ever move. She never would have anticipated such a reaction. She tightly clasped his hand, and stroked his hair as he wept into her shoulder. Rachel was sleeping quietly in her bed.

Lucas looked up at her. He wiped his face and sat up. "I'm sorry," He muttered. "You must think I'm such a girl's blouse,"

"I don't think that," Lisa argued, sitting up.

He turned back to her, curling his hand around her cheek. "Why?" He whispered. "Why won't you have the chemo?"

Lisa touched his face, feeling the skin under her fingers. "I want my last few months to be the best of my life. And I don't want to spend them vomiting in a bucket,"

"But you'll live a few more months,"

"Which is nothing,"

"It's something!"

"No," Lisa shook her head. "You don't understand,"

"Well, help me," Lucas said.

"I'm trying," She replied. "Please, look at it from my point of view. I don't want pain. I don't. I want to be able to make up the time I'm gonna miss with Rachel and you. And the only way I can do that is to reject the treatment." She wiped his face. "I'm sorry, but that's my choice, I wish I could make you see…"

Lucas said nothing. "I love you,"

Lisa nodded. "I love you too," She pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head into her shoulder. "I'm sorry,"

….

House stared at the white board, tapping his cane. His eyes glazed over his writing, trying to find another connection. All the symptoms, test results etc had been sticky-taped to the bored. Nothing else made sense.

"Hey," House looked up. Thirteen held out a coffee cup. He took it smiling at her.

"Thank you," He said.

Thirteen gave a swift smile and pulled up another chair. "Why are you still trying to find an answer?" She asked. "Why can't you accept it?"

House sighed. "Because, Nolan has the theory that I'm going through the grieving process, he told me just to let it pan out naturally,"

"And you disagree with him?"

"I always disagree with him," House replied. "I mean, he's not a real doctor. But, I have to try, don't I?"

Thirteen nodded. "I guess,"

House took a sip of his coffee. "How are you?"

"I'm fine,"

"Fine doesn't interest me," House replied. "How's the…?"

Thirteen licked her lips and sighed. "I…" She looked down at her shoes. "I couldn't remember how to do the straps of my shoes this morning. I'm angry all the time. Last week I shouted at my best friend's kid… So… Not great,"

"I'm sorry," House said.

"Yeah, well." Thirteen shrugged. "It wouldn't be so bad, but… I have no one to really talk me through it. Ever since Eric and I broke up-"

"House!"

House looked around. Lucas was standing at the doorway, his hands balled up into fists. "Lucas," House stood up. "Is something wrong?"

Before he could even react, Lucas rammed his right fist into House's cheek. House faltered in step, almost falling to the ground, but he grabbed the table and supported himself. Thirteen ran to his side. Lucas shook his hand madly. "Ouch!" He said.

House raised an eyebrow. Lucas turned back to him. "How dare you think that you can play god on Lisa's life? How can you even look yourself in the mirror, knowing that a beautiful, bright woman didn't get two more months on this earth because of your manipulation? Are you so arrogant that you can't realize that two months is a big deal? Do you not realize that…?" He began to pace, his entire body shaking in anger and trepidation. He turned to look at the broken man on the floor.

"Listen," House said, calmly as Thirteen helped him to his seat. "I know two months is a lot. But everyday of those two months, she will be in and out of hospital, in pain and still dying. All the treatment will do is make her life a little miserable before she dies. I don't want her to die. Why would I? Do you really think I am that heartless? I don't want her to die. But at least I am trying to be selfless about it. To ask her to live a few more months for my love to be satisfied? I can't do that to her. And if you love her as much as you claim to, then you'll see it too,"

Lucas stared at him and then left. House gingerly touched his cheek. "Ow." He muttered.

"Here," Thirteen said. "Let me take a look,"

"I'll be fine," House replied.

"Just let me take a look at it!" She snapped. House stared at her. A split second passed. She looked away. "I'm sorry," She said, quietly. "I'll go get you something for that." She reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out an ice pack.

…

Foreman opened the door. Cuddy sat with hospital notices in front of her. She smiled as he entered the room.

"You wanted to see me?" He asked.

Cuddy nodded. "Sit down, Eric," She said. Foreman obliged and sat opposite her. She smiled reassuringly. "Alright, I'm not really supposed to be doing this until I get discharged," She said. "Eric, you are a smart doctor,"

"I have a feeling that you didn't page me to boost my ego," Foreman said. "What is it?"

Cuddy sighed. "Well, you obviously know what's happening… I can't stay hospital dean if I'm in a grave,"

"What?" Foreman asked.

"I want you to become the new dean of medicine," She said very plainly.

"Shouldn't Wilson or one of the other doctors do it?" Foreman asked.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, in a perfect hospital, perhaps. But the problem is of course; House." Foreman raised an eyebrow. Cuddy pursed her lips. "He needs to be controlled," She said plainly. "Though he's going through therapy right now to boost his people skills, he might return to his old ways."

"But Wilson-"

"Is an amazing doctor," Cuddy admitted. "But, he enables House. He let's House get away with anything. I can't ask any of the other doctors to do it, because none will subject themselves to House's madness. I can't ask Cameron because well, she tried it before and couldn't handle it. You actually have the balls to stand up to House's lunacy and make this hospital work smoothly. What's more, you will be able to control House. How perfect can it get?"

"Still." Foreman said. "Don't I need board approval and stuff…?"

Cuddy nodded. "Yes you do," She said. "Sorry, but I want to get this out of the way. I have put your name down for this job. You are meeting with them tomorrow," She held out a piece of paper. Foreman took it.

"I don't know if I can do this." He said.

"I believe that you can," Cuddy replied. "Now, scoot. I have more work to do, before being discharged."

Foreman nodded and left. Cuddy stood up and picked Rachel up from her cot. She fixed the child's hat and smiled. "Now," She said kindly. "What am I going to do with you?"

….

Cuddy was discharged the next day. House watched her put Rachel into a tiny pram. Lucas was there with her suitcase and umbrella. Outside rain tumbled in drones. It was quite dramatic. There was a clattering of heavy thunder that was at least two miles east. Wilson sat quietly next to his friend, staring at his shoes.

"Did you hear that Foreman is going to be new dean of medicine?" He asked.

House nodded. "I heard,"

"They want people who can deal with your insanity and not enable you," Wilson supplied. "And you are not even vaguely interested."

House looked over at him. "Sorry," He muttered. "I… I have a lot on my mind,"

"I know you do," Wilson replied.

"Look at them," House said. "They're trying to be happy, but they know what they have to face,"

"Yes, well. People are stupid," Wilson said.

"That's not an argument," House snapped. "It's condescending,"

Wilson frowned. "Since when did you think the word 'condescending' applied to people?"

House ignored him. He leaned back on the chair. "Do you think that she will leave Rachel with Lucas?"

Wilson nodded. "It seems like it. It is the most logical thing to do. She won't leave her child to someone she doesn't know and love." He looked over at his friend, his eyes darting. "She won't leave Rachel with you," He said.

House gave him a glare.

"C'mon," Wilson said, folding his arms. "Do you really think that gonna leave an innocent child with a recovering drug addict?"

A patient dragging an IV looked over. House grinned stupidly. "If you don't keep walking, Dr Jimmy Wilson here will let me administer the next drip!"

The patient's eyes widened. She quickly tottered off to the elevator. Wilson raised an eyebrow. "You really shouldn't threat patients," He said. "Foreman won't take it too kindly,"

"Screw Foreman," House muttered.

"You better do what Foreman says,"

House and Wilson looked up. Cuddy smiled down at them. Lucas waited with the pram about a few steps behind her, obviously not forgetting about the huge bruise that he had cause on House's cheek.

Cuddy bent down and gently stroked the yellowing bruise. "Greg," She said. "What happened to you?"

"Patient's relative got pissed," House replied, steering clear of her leather clad hands. Cuddy sighed. "Why'd you call me Greg?"

"I'm not hospital administrator anymore," Cuddy shrugged. "And you're not my attending. We are now on equal grounds."

"I thought it was dean of medicine?" House said.

"Oh shut up, we both know it was an administrating job." Cuddy replied. "I haven't been a real doctor in years."

House never said a word. He looked away.

Cuddy sighed. Slowly and tentatively she placed her arms around House's shoulders, hugging the grumpy doctor tightly. House felt some wet drip onto his shoulder. "Thank you," Cuddy whispered. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek, took Lucas's hand and walked away.

**No real signficance. As ever love to hear reviews. **


	6. Finally!

Two weeks passed before anything else of Lisa was heard. Apart from coming in for her weekly checks, House had not seen her. He worried, endlessly, though he wouldn't say to anyone that he was. Foreman's take over of the hospital had been smooth and barely unnoticeable. It was almost like an evil sub-plot to take over the American medical care. Well, House saw it as that at least. He wasn't sure if anyone else did. After Cuddy's third week, House decided that he wouldn't watch her leave with Lucas again. It just hurt too much.

Lisa tucked Rachel into her car seat. Lucas looked on. She looked around. "What?" She asked, smiling.

"I can't help it," Lucas shrugged. "I think you are so… So… Beautiful. And I don't think I tell you as much as I should,"

Cuddy's smile grew. "You tell me that everyday," She said.

"Still not enough," Lucas replied. He put his hands around her waist and kissed her. She pulled away.

"Lucas!" She said.

"Oh let them see," Lucas smiled. Cuddy looked away. Lucas sighed. "I know you kissed House,"

Cuddy's eyes widened. "What?"

"I know you kissed House. I know that you have deeper emotions for him than me and…" He looked at her. "I want you to be happy these last few months,"

"I'm happy with you," She tried.

He waved the comment away. "We both know that's a lie. You have always loved House. Be with him,"

"He doesn't make me happy," Cuddy replied. "You make me happy,"

"But he can give you the excitement that you want," Lucas replied.

Cuddy cupped her hands around his face and kissed him softly. "I love you," She whispered.

"I love you too," Lucas replied. "But… Not as much as House does,"

"No," Cuddy replied. "I don't want change. I don't want anything to change in my last few months."

"You need things to change," He said. "If nothing changes, then you haven't experienced life,"

"I don't need to,"

"Yes, you do." Lucas said. "I love you Lisa, but I want you to be happy,"

"No," She said. "Don't leave me,"

"I'm not leaving you," He said. "I'm not, I swear on it. But go to House. Be with him, these last few months,"

"Is this a ploy to see if I really love House or you?" Cuddy asked.

"At first it was," Lucas smiled. "And I hated myself for thinking such deceit. But… You guys… It's like, we see you and it works. It's like… You're connected."

"I thought you didn't believe in fate," She challenged.

"I don't," Lucas grinned. "How can I believe in Fate and a god, when such a talented beautiful woman is going to be taken away from me?"

She began shaking her head.

"Don't," Lucas said. "Don't put yourself down like that. You are all of those things. I can give you happiness, but not meaning. Rachel can give you the meaning. But House can give you both. He can make your last few months really special."

Lisa kissed him gently on the forehead. "Thank you,"

Lucas smiled. "I love you, Lisa." He kissed her back and smiled. "Now, go find that angry son of a bitch. I'll drop the stuff off at your apartment."

"Thank you," She said, she gently lifted Rachel out of the car, carrying her by her car seat. She kissed Lucas again, tears falling thick and fast down her cheeks. Lucas closed the doors of the car and watched the love of his life leave him.

….

House wiped the words off the white board. Another case solved. The team had disbanded to go do the personal stuff that they enjoyed a few moments ago, leaving House to gather his thoughts. Not that he especially wanted to gather his thoughts. All he could think about was Cuddy and her visit to the hospital. He sighed and limped over to the coffee pot, pouring out his favourite red cup.

"I hope that's decaf," Said a voice.

House turned sharply. At the doorway was Cuddy. Her eyes red, but she was smiling nonetheless. She looked as beautiful as ever, even though she was wearing a plain green jumper and pair of black pinstripe pants. Her hair was scraped back into a messy ponytail. In this state however, she looked more… Vulnerable. Less like a supermodel and more of a mere human, scared of loosing everything she ever cared about. In one hand she carried the car seat in which a sleeping Rachel lay nestled.

House smiled. "Nah, just the regular crap," He frowned. "What are you doing back here?"

She gently placed the car seat onto one of the chairs. Her movements were slow, calculated. She turned to House.

"Wh-" He was cut off. Cuddy wrapped her arms around his neck and before he knew it, he was kissing her. He tossed his cane aside. Soft and gentle, yet, fierce and ripe with passion. His hands twisted around the small of her back, pulling her closer. To Lisa, he smelled of bourbon and coffee. It was comforting. They parted, smiling at each other.

"What's brought this on?" House asked, curious.

"Lucas… He and I…" She shrugged. "Well, he figured that I would want to spend my last few months with you,"

"But you love Lucas!"

"No. I mean… I did. But not anymore. I love you." She smiled. "I've always loved you. And I can't believe it's taken me so long to admit it."

"Shh." House said, pressing a finger against her lips. He smiled tenderly. "I love you too."

They fell again into each other's arms.

…

Cuddy rolled over and rested her head on House's chest. He kissed her forehead softly. She smiled, shifting the blankets over herself.

"Y'know," She whispered. "That has been the first night since my diagnosis, that I have slept peacefully,"

He grinned. "You manage to boost my ego too! Well done,"

"Who's boosting your ego?" She asked playfully. "I'm just saying that you were a little better than Lucas."

"But you state on Facebook that Lucas is an excellent lover,"

"I don't have facebook,"

"No, but 'Party Pants' does,"

Cuddy shrugged. "I'm too happy to get pissed off with you," She said.

"Shame, a nice fight after sex brightens me up,"

"Does it sharpen your wit?"

"If the occasion calls for it," House replied. She huddled closer to him.

"I could spend forever here," She said. "I wish I had made the decision to make you mine before all of this,"

"Me too," House said. "I think Rachel wants your attention."

Cuddy listened. Sure enough Rachel was calling out for her breakfast. Cuddy smiled and draped a silk dressing gown. She tied it, aware that House was watching. She turned and smiled.

"What?" She asked.

"I can't believe how nice your ass looks without clothes on. I've imagined, but it's come as a bit of a shock to the system," House grinned.

"Some things never change," She said rolling her eyes. She went through to Rachel's room and picked her daughter up. "Shh. Mom's here,"

Rachel gurgled a little. House limped up behind Cuddy, balancing his cane on the cot; he was wearing his jeans from the previous night. He put his hands around her waist and kissed her neck. She looked up at him. Rachel did the same, but with a little more curiosity.

"Hey shortie," He said.

Cuddy slapped his bare chest with the back of her hand. "Don't call her that," She said. Rachel leaned out from her mother's arms trying to grab the strange man with bright blue eyes. Cuddy watched. "Here," She said. "You take her, while I fix her some breakfast,"

Without any warning she place the child in House's arms. Unable to do anything, House limped to the chair and sat down, staring at the strange creature. Cuddy stopped at the door and turned around, smiling at the sight before her.

"Look at you guys," She said. "You look like a real father and daughter," She sighed happily and left for the kitchen.

House stared at Rachel. He felt nothing when he looked at her. He knew that was wrong. He finally had the family he had dreamed of, but Rachel didn't feel right, sitting in his arms.

"Don't tell your mom," He said. "But… I don't think we could ever be father and daughter." Rachel was in the process of trying to shove her fist into her mouth when she blinked and looked up at the strange man. "Let's…" House sighed. "Let's just pretend for your mother,"

He balanced the baby on his lap, watching her carefully. Cuddy returned in short minutes with a bottle of milk. She handed it to Rachel who took a tight grasp of it and like everything else that passed by her; she stuck it in her mouth.

Cuddy took her daughter from House's lap and handed over his cane. House gave her a grateful smile. Together they made their way to the front room and played happy families for a few hours.

**Please Review! I always love your thoughts!**


	7. Crushed

Cuddy coughed. House turned to look at her, his face hard.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Cuddy sniggered, throwing some cake batter onto his nose. "It's a small cough, Greg. It's not important."

House gave her a swift smile, putting his arms around her. It had been two months since her diagnosis. And every-time she sneezed or coughed, he was there worried. Last week he had taken Cuddy and Rachel to Pompeii and Rome. He was so devoted to making her last few weeks really matter. "You know how much I worry,"

"Greg," She said, wiping his nose and sticking the batter playfully on her tongue. "I'm fine. I have a few weeks left."

"A few weeks?" House asked. "You've been keeping count?"

"I like to plan ahead. You've known me long enough to know that," Cuddy gave a small glance to Rachel who was sitting very happily on her highchair.

There was a clattering of wood on stone as she dropped one of the spoons she had been playing with. House watched, smiling. He winced as he reached down and picked the spoon up. Rachel took it from him and once again stuck it into her mouth.

"Greg, could you take that from her?" Cuddy asked. House gently pried it from the girl's fingers. Rachel let out a wail. Cuddy rushed over to give her a blue pacifier, gently adjusting her baby-gro. House shoved the spoon into the sink.

"Did you ever think you last months would be like this?" House asked solemnly.

Cuddy raised a perfect eyebrow as she wiped her hands. She still looked beautiful, but she was pale. Paler than usual. Clothes hung off her in an almost unattractive way- House barely noticed. She had opted out of wearing her usual tailored clothes and now wore plain baggy jerseys and pants. She liked wearing House's rock t-shirts. Today it was the Rolling Stones concert tour.

"Baking cakes with you and my daughter?" She asked. She laughed haughtily and coughed again. "To be honest, no. I never really thought it would be like this."

House smirked.

"Mainly because you're such an arrogant son-of-a-bitch," Cuddy said. "So much so, that you wouldn't open up and share your feelings with me. And… since my pregnancies failed… I never thought I would have a kid. Or even something close to a family. And I have both. A lovely wonderful man and beautiful baby…"

"I'm not exactly your husband." House said.

"No," Cuddy smiled. "And I don't want you to be my husband. I never really wanted to get married unless I knew it was going to last forever. By becoming your wife, then making you a widow. It will make you feel unfaithful if you try and go for another relationship."

"The only relationship I ever wanted was one involving you," House grinned. He slowly whipped the batter, placing it into a tin. He shoved it excitedly into the oven.

"I've never seen you so happy," Cuddy complimented, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I have you." House replied. "Plus, cooking is one of the few joys in life."

"Gregory House, cooking." Cuddy stifled a laugh. "God forbid, I never thought I would see the day."

House shrugged. "Neither did I," He admitted. "I never thought I would have a beautiful talented woman on my arm."

Cuddy coughed again.

"Are you sure you're alright?" House asked, handing her a napkin. Cuddy nodded, wiping her mouth.

"I'm fine." She said. "And you're lying when you say that,"

"Say what?" He asked. "That you're attractive? That you're talented? Well, okay, you're no Carmen Elektra, but…" He shrugged.

Cuddy hit him with the wooden spoon. "Cheeky,"

"But true," House said. "But trust me. I'd choose you over Carmen any day…" He put his arms around her. "Well, except for Sundays…"

Cuddy smiled, she coughed again. This time it was hacking, wet… it didn't sound right. House frowned looking at her. She put the napkin to her mouth, choking heavily on her phlegm. She pulled it away. "Oh god…" She said. "Greg…"

House took the napkin from her. He stared into the contents. Blood. He looked up at her. She coughed some more before toppling over to the sink. She heaved and threw up.

…

House watched as Cuddy was wheeled into the ward. He balanced on Rachel's pram. Cuddy was hooked up to various machines and she had just come back from her MRI. He could hear Wilson behind him. He didn't turn.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked.

He heard Wilson sigh. "It's… It's not good. The cancer has progressed much quicker than we would have liked. It's crushing her heart."

"That means… She can't do all the things we planned." House said. This was more to himself than it was to his best friend. Wilson heard it though and House could practically see him nod. He looked down at the napping Rachel who was completely unaware of what was happening. "Rachel is gonna loose her mother a lot quicker than expected."

"Yes," Wilson said. "Have you even slept?"

"How could I sleep?" House frowned. "How could I…" He let out a small sad laugh, shaking his head. "I can't… I have to look after…"

"If it helps," Wilson said. "I can take Rachel and look after her for a while."

"I can't,"

"House, it's not healthy. Go get some sleep." Wilson said.

"I used to stay awake for almost weeks at a time in med school," House replied.

"We're not in med school." Wilson said. "And last time I looked, in med school you weren't a crippled recovering vicodin addict."

House didn't like Wilson stating the obvious as clearly as he did. But he knew that his friend was right.

"I can't leave her…" He said.

"Listen. I put her out. She's gonna be asleep for a while. Go get some sleep." Wilson said. He shoved the file under his arm ready to take Rachel away from House. He wouldn't let go of the push-buggy. "House," Wilson said firmly. "C'mon,"

House released the pram. He felt empty. He watched silently as Wilson left. He limped up to the glass, peering into the ward. She looked so weak… So vulnerable… Her skin had paled and looked waxy. She was drained completely. House figured that she wouldn't have looked outta place in a horror movie. He slid the door open and sat by her side. He clutched her hand and put it to his lips, kissing it softly.

"Lisa," He said. "I know you can't hear me. Maybe your conscious will pick up on my voice. Well. I'm hoping as much." He looked down at her broken frame. "I love you so much. I don't know how I'll survive if you're not here. I know you feel the same way. It's… its times like these that I really wish that there was an afterlife."

He sighed, leaning forward to be even closer to her. His hand stroked her forehead. "I'm not great at this whole romantic thing. I'm kinda… Well rubbish at it. I'll admit that. If it's taken me this long to work out that we really belong together then I guess I can't call myself a genius. Especially on the social skills." He smiled. "Wilson would have admired the humility."

…

Wilson found House sleeping on the chair beside Cuddy's bed. It can't have been good for his leg. He shook his friend awake. House wiped his eyes blinking up stupidly at the oncologist.

"You were supposed to go home to sleep," Wilson said agitated, folding his arms.

"Chair seemed more comfortable," House grunted. He shifted and rubbed his leg slightly. Wilson raised one of his demented eyebrows. "I couldn't go home, knowing…" House sighed admittedly.

Wilson nodded. "Right. Do you want a vicodin?"

House looked up. He had barely realized that he was excruciating pain. He shook his head though. "No, it's cool,"

"Greg House passing up the opportunity to get high? It's like a Christmas miracle,"

"You call this a miracle?" House nodded towards the sleeping Cuddy. He rubbed his stubble. "Sorry," He muttered. Wilson sighed and sat beside him. House frowned. "Don't you have doctor things to do?" He asked.

"Don't you?" Wilson replied.

House shrugged. "I'm the relation of a patient." He said.

"I knew you'd find a way to get out of working clinic hours, Foreman is looking for you,"

"Let him look, where's Rachel?"

"She's with Thirteen and Taub. It'll give them something to do."

"Is she in the office?"

"Of course,"

House said nothing.

"She'll wake up soon," Wilson said.

"You said that a day ago,"

"No, I said that four hours ago." Wilson corrected. "Give it time,"

"You said she had more time…" House said, almost to himself.

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "You're gonna blame me?"

House looked over. He shook his head. "No," He said. "I can't blame you at all. It wouldn't be fair," Cuddy's eyes flickered. House leaned forward and took a grip of her hand. "Lisa?"

She smiled up at him. "Greg… What happened? Why am I…?"

"Sh," House said. "It's okay,"

"Wilson looks worried," Cuddy croaked. "What's wrong?"

"You don't have as much time as… As we originally thought," Wilson said. "The cancer has spread and it's destroyed your heart."

Cuddy didn't react. She cleared her throat breathing heavily. "How long?" She asked.

Wilson sighed. "It could be a few hours to a few days. There is no way to tell. We have to keep you here,"

"That's not enough time," Cuddy said. "Oh god, that's not enough time!"

"Sh." House said again, stroking her hair. "It's all right,"

Cuddy blinked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "How is it 'all right'?" She asked. "How the hell is it all right?"

"I don't know," House said.

**I know I'm getting annoying... Please review. **


	8. Responsibility

House watched Cuddy, lying on the hospital bed, dying of an illness that he could not save her from. Why was this happening? He thought to himself. He couldn't make any sense from it. He could always make sense. Always. But… There was nothing they could do.

Now she sat on her hospital bed, draped in wires monitoring her heartbeat, her BP… Everything was monitored and calculated. She knew her days were coming to an end. House wanted to save her but he wasn't a hero. He wasn't some superman. Doctors rarely were.

In shaking arms, Cuddy held baby Rachel. She cooed and stroked her hair, watching her play with the blanket. She hadn't talked to House since Wilson's grim news. She new though that House was watching her. She wanted him to come in and talk to her. He wouldn't. She guessed it was because he was scared about getting close. She couldn't understand. A few weeks ago he wasn't so bothered about being with a dying woman.

She couldn't blame him. She was surprised he had stuck around so long. House watched her through the glass. The only woman he had ever really given a crap about, apart from Stacy, was dying. Wilson stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"House," He said quietly. "Cuddy needs you,"

"She needs a cure," House retorted his defenses up.

Wilson nodded. "Yes, that would be one of the things she needs. But since the world hasn't been so kind to us, a cure is put to the bottom of the list."

House rolled his eyes.

"She really needs someone," Wilson replied. "She needs someone the same way I did when Amber died. I know I shouldn't be comparing the situations. But neither incident was wanted. Go talk to her. Don't spend the last few precious hours that she has wasting it talking to me or your team,"

House tapped his cane, thinking. "I can't-"

"You don't want to get hurt," Wilson said. "I get that. I get that more than most people; I've been through the same thing. But… If you don't do it, you will regret it for the rest of your non-drug filled life,"

"Humor," House let out a small sad smile. "Wow that's pretty… Well, not really you…"

"We're doctors," Wilson said. "If we don't make the humor, the hospital will get to us,"

"How…" House turned to his friend. "How did you cope when you found out that the love you're of your life only had hours to live?" He asked. "I mean… What did you think?"

"The secret is House," Wilson said. "I didn't cope at all. I blamed you personally because you were on the bus. I didn't want to accept it. You are gonna go through the exact same things. Thankfully you didn't blame me for it."

House smirked, leaning against the glass. "I can't do this." He said. "Young mothers with huge prospects should live. Misanthropic recovering drug addicts should be the ones to die. Life it shouldn't be so random."

"You're right, it shouldn't." Wilson agreed. "But it is, and it's happening to Lisa. Now, I shouldn't need to convince you about going in and just talking to her." He sighed. "I'll be in my office if you need me,"

House nodded. "Alright," He muttered. Wilson walked off. House bit his lip and slid the door open.

"House," Cuddy said weakly. She held Rachel closer. House limped forward. He motioned that he could take her foster child into his arms. Cuddy smiled gratefully and as House sat down, she placed her child into his arms.

House watched Rachel curl her tiny fingers, gently touching his cheek. He watched her silently.

Cuddy lay back down on her bed, watching them both.

"Greg," She said silently.

House looked up.

"I'm dying," She said. "And I don't want to leave without saying…" She sighed and coughed. "Greg, I love you," She said.

House looked at her. He placed his hand against her face. Their lips pressed together for a moment.

"I love you too," He said. "I wish I could… If there is anything… I want to…" He looked away shaking.

"Greg," Cuddy said firmly. He looked up. She sighed. "I've called my lawyer and the adoption agents. They should be here any second."

"W-why?" House asked, frowning.

Cuddy took in a deep breath. "I want you to become Rachel's legal father."

House was startled. "But Wilson-"

"I don't Wilson to raise her." Cuddy replied. "I want you to."

"Wh-what about Lucas?"

"Don't you get it?" Cuddy asked, incredulously. "Seriously are you that insanely thick?"

House frowned. "What?"

"I want you to be her father. Alright. I don't want Lucas. I don't want Wilson. I want you. I know you can do this. I know it's gonna be hard. But I don't want anyone else. Please… Please Greg. Do this for me,"

"But I'll screw the kids life up," House replied. "I've screwed mine up, I mean… I'm still an addict at heart."

Cuddy shook her head. "No, you have come a long way since I met you. And if I didn't think that you were responsible to love and care for my beautiful girl," Cuddy stroked the child's hair, tears filled in her eyes. "Why won't you take her?"

House leaned forward and kissed Cuddy. Their tears mixed. He pulled away, looking at the baby in his arms and they dying woman on the bed. He nodded. "Alright," He said.

…

The lawyer smiled opening her briefcase. She pulled out papers and the two adoption agents set about to question House.

"Any medical problems?" One asked.

House raised his cane. "Just one,"

"Is it a serious problem?" Asked the other one.

"Not anymore," House said.

"Do we have a witness?" The lawyer asked.

"Wilson," Cuddy suggested. "House, call Wilson," House obliged.

Wilson was there in minutes. "What's going on?" He asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"I'm…" House struggled with the words. "I'm adopting Rachel,"

"We need a full court to process the adoption" The lawyer said calmly. "But seeing that it is Dr. Cuddy's dying wish, it should be easy enough. Sign these forms, guardianship passes to you and we'll be outta here as soon as we can."

"Oh," Cuddy said. "I need to discuss the will!" House didn't say a word. Though she seemed happy to get these things out of the way, he seemed to think that it was a bit grim. Cuddy smiled over at him. "I leave everything to Gregory Jonathon House and my daughter Rachel Lisa House,"

House frowned. "But your siblings…" He said.

"Don't care," Cuddy said. "We haven't spoken in years," House opened his mouth to complain. "Oh, shut up!" She said giving him a small sad smile.

Once the papers had been signed, the adoption agents left House with a date for the court. Cuddy's lawyer stopped at the door. She sighed and looked around. "I'm sorry, for… The…"

"It's okay," Cuddy said. "We've come to terms with it,"

"Still," The lawyer said. "I'm sorry,"

Cuddy gave a gracious smile. "It's okay."

…

House was clutching Cuddy's hand. He was exhausted but he wouldn't go home. How could he just leave her? Rain pounded heavily on the windows; a truly ironic scene. Her chest rose heavily as she struggled to breathe. It was despairing to watch. House was fixated on the monitor.

"Greg," She wheezed.

He looked at her. "Yes?"

"I can't do it anymore…" She said. "Can't you give me something? Morphine, anything… Please it hurts…"

"I… I…" House shook his head. "No… I can't… I can't kill you…"

"Please," She whispered, shaking her head. "I don't want to die in pain…"

"Lisa, I can't kill you,"

Cuddy curled up into the pillow. "Please…"

House shook his head. "I can't…"

Cuddy began to cough. Her heartbeat changed dramatically. House stood up, checking her pulse. He bounded out of the ward. "Someone help!" He shouted.

Thirteen and Chase were the nearest. They ran into the ward. "She's flat-lining!" Thirteen shouted.

"Paddles!" Chase yelled.

"House get out!" Came another voice. House turned sharply, Wilson was standing at the door. He grabbed House by his arms.

"No!"

"She wouldn't want you to see her like this!" Wilson pulled House out of the room. He could hear little Rachel crying in her cot. He grabbed the child and watched silently from behind the glass.

He felt as if he couldn't breathe. They shocked her a few times but… Nothing. Lisa Cuddy was dead.

Wilson called time of death at 3:17am Tuesday 20th of April 2010.

House held Rachel close as Cuddy died. He could not match the pain that was now rippling through his body. He sat down on a vinyl chair, head in hand. There was a funny sound… He realized that the sound was coming from him. A noise like heart retching sobs, his chest felt tight and Greg House began to cry.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

**Keep those comments coming!**


	9. End then Begin

Cuddy's affairs had been set in order. Everything she could think of had been set; ready for everyone to move on. House couldn't believe how well organised she had been. He couldn't exactly concentrate on how efficient her work had been. He had been completely unaware of anything around him (apart from Rachel of course) for about a week. He was caught up with his own thoughts.

Changing diapers, feeding, burping, dressing and washing Rachel had all seemed to fall into a daily routine. House barely needed to think about it any more. But he still felt nothing for little Rachel. He wanted to, for Lisa.

He hadn't actually talked to anyone since… He was so surprised when her funeral had come around.

House looked up at the crowded church. In the front pew, Wilson sat with Rachel. House sighed and shifted his tie.

"They asked me to speak today," He said. "I don't know why. I'm not good at these speeches…" He looked back at the coffin nestled with white roses. He licked his lips. "I don't believe in god. I never have. How could I believe in him when so much pain and heartache exists in this world?" He sighed. "Lisa Cuddy wasn't a hero. She wasn't a saint. It would be wrong to remember her as that. But she was important. To me, to her daughter… To her patients… She was good hearted, kind with strong morals and a sense of justice. What happened to her was unjust, cruel and heartless. She should never have died." He looked back up at them. "Lisa helped people in their darkest hours. She helped me when I most needed her. She was there for Rachel's real mother in her last hours and she took Rachel in when no one else would. For those deeds we should remember her."

There was a moment of silence. House twisted his cane limping back to the pew to sit back down with Wilson. He handed Rachel over in her pretty pink blanket. She made no motion that her mother was gone. House rested the child onto his lap.

"How are you?" Wilson asked.

"I'm fine," House replied. "I'm glad,"

"Glad that she's dead?" Wilson asked.

"No!" House snapped. "Of course not. I'm glad that she's not in pain, that she's not suffering…" He sighed and looked down at Rachel. "God, I miss her…"

Wilson nodded. The procession began to break up. House put Rachel back into her pram and stood up. Wilson took a hold of the pram and wheeled it down the aisle as House limped behind.

"You're a bastard,"

House turned to see Lucas standing at the pew. His face stained with tears and he looked rough. House frowned. "How am I so?" He asked.

He didn't know how it happened but Lucas's fist came into contact with his jaw. House stumbled, but Wilson pushed him upright. He stared at the furious little man.

"You stole her from me!" Lucas bellowed. "Rachel was my responsibility! Cuddy was my girlfriend and you stole them both from me,"

House checked his lip. It was bleeding. Lucas stood shaking furiously. House sighed. "I'm sorry," He said sincerely. "I'm sorry that she left you, but… "

"Don't you dare," Lucas said. "Don't you fucking dare! She loved me! Not you! She never loved you!"

"What on earth?" The priest forced himself between the two men. "This is a church! The house of God! A place of love! There will be no anger!"

Lucas looked at the priest, then at House. He pushed past them.

…

House read the letter carefully. Wilson watched him.

"Well?" He asked.

House sighed limping over to the seat handing it to the oncologist. Wilson read it over, his face frowning slightly.

"21st of July," Wilson muttered. "They've asked you to get yourself checked out; medical, psychological. Damn that's gonna be tough especially since you've been seeing Nolan for so long,"

"We've been getting on better," House grunted.

"Really?" Wilson asked. It was rhetorical, he wasn't looking for an answer. House didn't reply. They sat in uneasy silence for a while.

House tapped his knees before getting up and limped into her room.

Her cot was centred in the middle of the room surrounded by boxes filled with her clothes and her other essentials. He would need to sort it out. Wilson called something from the living room and there was a slam at the door before House could reply.

Rachel was sleeping in the tiny cot. House was watching her. What the hell was he doing? He wasn't cut out to be a father. Why hadn't Cuddy entrusted Wilson with her child? Wilson was a lot more caring, a lot more dopey eyed than House. Even House admitted that he was the last person who should care for a kid. But Cuddy wanted him to take care of this child that she called her daughter. In his hand he clutched Cuddy's letter. He was thinking whether he should open it or not.

Rachel yawned and House smiled, just a little. Mother's often thought that their baby was the most precious, most beautiful thing alive. Cuddy had a right to think that Rachel was adorable, but House couldn't exactly see the appeal. Babies were smelly, annoying, whining brats and that was a general fact. But House had known this child… Her history… Could he be the father he wanted? Could House become the father that he wanted from his own childhood? House felt all his insecurities return to him. He couldn't take care of Rachel, he'd screw up her life with his constant pain addiction, erratic job, his early morning piano concerts everything that made House, House was almost an impossible thing for a young child to live with.

He went through to the living room, still wrapped in his concerns and tried to unload some of the boxes. He had just moved here last week and aside from Wilson taking all Rachel's things from Cuddy's to House's new apartment, House had not been yet able to create an environment that suited him and this new person in his life. He had so many things to do; taxes, mortgages. He had no idea about this sorta stuff. How could he handle a baby when he could barely take care of himself?

Absorbed in his own thoughts, he did not notice that Rachel was crying. He sighed and went through to her room and placed his cane against her tiny white chest of drawers. He checked her temperature, checked her diaper, tried to feed her… Nothing worked. He picked her up, rocking her slowly in his arms.

"Why won't you stop crying?" He asked mournfully. She looked up at him. "Please… Rachel…"

Suddenly, her tiny face broke into a smile.

"That's it?" He asked. "All I needed was to say your name?"

She blinked at him. He smiled softly. She gurgled happily and reached up to touch his scruffy face with her little hand. He let her touch his cheek, smiling gently at her.

"Hey," He whispered. "You barmy, eccentric monster,"

She gurgled again, it lit up House's heart like a fire. She curled her tiny fingers around House's pinky finger and put it in her mouth. He watched her do so.

"What am I going to do with you?" He said. He picked up his cane, holding Rachel close as he limped through to the living room. It was a difficult thing to do and House was terrified that he would drop her. He pushed the boxes of the couch and sat down. Rachel was now grasping his shirt. He smiled watching her.

"I am going to make your life so wonderful," He promised. "I'm going to be the best daddy ever. I love you Rachel and I will always love you. I promise."

**YEP I'M BACK!  
BE AFRAID! MWHAHAHAHAHA**


	10. Changing Tables

**Guys – Just so you know, I haven't yet seen the Sixth Series let alone the Seventh, mainly because I don't get Sky or whatever and Mum is too stubborn to let me get Season 6. I do know what happens (ish) in Season 6 because of online reviews and such. But like I said I have no idea about Season 7, so this story is based roughly in the first half former. This is my interpretation of how House would take parenthood – so don't bash me for it! Love ya  
Sirona X**

"Pheewee!" Wilson cried peeling back Rachel's diaper. "House what the hell do you feed this kid? Broccoli every night?"

House vacantly lifted an eyebrow as he rubbed his hands thoroughly. "What kinda person do you take me for?"

"An incompetent drug addict," Wilson shot back.

"Oh, below the belt," House said. He limped over to Rachel and took a whiff. "Urgh… I see what you mean,"

"Do you feed her properly?"

"You know I do," House snapped.

"Well what is this green stuff?" Wilson asked pointing to the gunk protruding from the child's bottom.

"That Wilson, is her poo,"

"It's green!"

"And she's a baby, baby's poo goes all sorts of weird colors," House said. "I thought you would have known that,"

"Do I look like I have worked in paediatrics?"

"Do I?"

Wilson looked over House. "If you have god help those kids you treated,"

"Thank you,"

"Not a problem." Wilson replied. "God almighty Rachel!" He cried. "What the hell?"

Rachel looked up at Wilson with her beady green eyes, her hand stuck in her mouth again and she was quite enjoying the attention that the doctor was giving her. House rolled his eyes and pushed Wilson out of the way. "Look," He muttered. Carefully, he wiped her clean, rubbed her with a little talcum powder and put a fresh diaper on. "It's almost like your nights out," He grinned picking her up.

"Thanks for that," Wilson said. "I never thought you would be so experienced with putting diapers on and feeding and changing and all that,"

"The nanny showed me how,"

"You have a nanny?"

"I have a lot of things that you don't know about." House retorted. "For example, a penis that reaches my knees, three prostitutes that are on my beck and call, a yacht currently residing on the beach at California with the name Pretty Enormous Navigational Island Sailor."

Wilson frowned. "That spells out… Penis? You named your yacht so it would spell out the anatomy of which you are most proud,"

"Trust me, I would have made the name spell out 'Wilson's Vagina,; but I couldn't think of anything that would work," House retorted.

"Do you really think repeating the sex organs, in front of Rachel, is a good start to parenthood?"

House rolled his eyes. "Here we go," He muttered.

"Do you really want her to know about that sort of stuff, so early in life?" Wilson asked. "Wouldn't that lead to complications when she's older?"

House sat Rachel in her baby walker and picked up his cane. "Listen," He said. "We have a ridiculous and frankly hypocritical view of sex."

"Oh god, you're not about to start on one of your philosophies are you?"

"Would you let me finish?"

"Fine!"

"Sex is the most natural thing ever. Yet we are constantly forced to view it as an unhealthy and evil thing when it is not. We force down what it really means and push out rampant lies about what it is. All it really is, is a biological need – the one to bring more of our species into the world. However we constantly want to be open with our children about it. I heard that in England they want to start teaching 3 year olds about sex and people were outraged at this calling it 'disgusting' etc."

"But we're not in England,"

"Wilson that is not the point I am trying to make." House said. "Because of our reasoning to make Sex sound like an immoral evil thing more and more are tempted into having it when they're not ready or because all their friends have done it. It is exactly the same as drugs,"

"Ah, no, you can't compare it to drugs,"

"Yes I can. Let's say.. Marijuana, it does less harm than that of alcohol. It lightens our mood makes you feel enlightened-"

"Makes you do stupid things,"

"But don't you see? Alcohol does that itself. All the pleasures that we have made in our short span here we have banned ourselves from doing because we think their immoral or evil or whatever. If children understood from a young age that it is not an evil thing, that it is the most natural thing in the world that what it is, is a beautiful merging of two humans who statistically more times are in love with each other have been in a relationship for quite some time. It is one of the most wonderful things we've been given as humans." House looked up from the small note he had left himself on the coffee table.

"Is this how you're gonna raise her?" Wilson asked.

House smiled. "I don't know. Is it any good?"

"The argument you just presented was good,"

"D'you think?"

"Of course." Wilson shrugged. "I've always thought that the arguments you make are sound investments of words."

"Thank you," House said.

"But do you really want her first words to be 'breasts', 'penis' or 'doggy style'?"

"Of course not. But I am going to be open with her. About everything. I'm not going to sugar-coat her at all like many parents do. Lisa left her with me. That means, I raise her. And yes my particular brand of honesty doesn't work with some people-"

"Try most people,"

"Thank you for that rather unneeded," House said. "But I want her to be strong and independent. I want her to have her own personality, not the kind that is grafted onto some people once they come into contact with others. If she chooses a religion then I will tolerate it. If she chooses women over men, again I will tolerate it. If she decides that Justin Bieber is hot and Miley Cyrus is an idol then I will… Probably kill her,"

"So, gay, religious – they're okay, but idols like Justin Bieber and whatnot, their bad?"

"Of course they're bad," House shuddered. "I'm just glad that they'll be sinking into the history books as soon as she turns old enough to even acknowledge them,"

"Seriously?"

"Have you got some secret man crush on Beiber that you're not telling me about?" House asked.

"God, no," Wilson said. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"That's a lot of 'no's'" House said. "You like their music,"

"No,"

"Thank the lord," House said.

"You've turned religious?"

"No, if there was a god, he wouldn't let two talentless teenagers rule the world and claim their own empire." House said.

"That would be the devils work," Wilson summarized.

"I thought we had been over this," House said. "I am the devil!" He let out an evil sounding laugh that scared Wilson a little. Rachel enjoyed it; clapping her hands and looking up at the man who was now her father. "And it is not my handiwork, no this is something much more sinister than that."

"Day time reality?" Wilson asked.

"Correct my friend," House said.

"Friends with the devil," Wilson muttered. "Now that's something to put into my resume,"

"It'll get you a lot more interviews,"

"I'm sure it will,"

House sat down. "Do you think I'll make a good dad?"

Wilson frowned. "Where has this come all of a sudden?"

House grinned, rolling his cane between his palms as he sat down on the sofa. "I dunno. I've just been… Thinking I guess."

Wilson sniffed and sat down opposite his friend. "Always a worry," He muttered. "Alright, what's up?"

House sighed. "I've always wanted to be a dad." He said quietly. "I thought that in some bizarre way, that if I could be a father myself, I could be better than my own father. After Stacey and I broke up, I thought that the one person who could stand me was gone, that my chance to be a father had passed,"

"This is deep House, are you sure you want to be talking to me instead of Nolan?"

"I haven't even told Nolan this. No one knows. From the moment Cuddy adopted Rachel, I knew, I just knew it was the perfect family. It just felt right. But now it's all on me. I don't know how to raise a kid. What am I supposed to do? I can't exactly play with her in the park because of this bloody thing," He hit his leg with his cane and winced. "When she's ten, I'm going to be old enough to be her grandfather. I can't sit through school plays, poetry readings, Christmas charity events etc, I'll always need to be moving so this thing doesn't play havoc. What if the vicodin shots my liver? What happens then?"

"House," Wilson said, interrupting. "You're worrying way too much. Concentrate on the now, she needs you now,"

"What about when I'm working late, what happens then?" House asked. "What if I have a difficult case? I neglect myself, what am I going to do with her?"

"Well, I'm no expert at kids, but I know how to keep them entertained. I could look after her while you deal with whoever is dying of a strange infection, genetic disorder, complication from a pretty normal thing whatever else that comes your way." Wilson said. "You keep thinking of this as you being alone. Truth is House, you're not alone in this. You have people to help you. Not just me, but Thirteen, Foreman, Chase and Taub. And I'm sure Cameron would help if you called her up." Wilson stood up and patted House on the shoulder. "Look, you'll get through this in one piece."

"Thanks," House muttered.

**Please leave on of your lovely comments, much appreciated.**


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